


Summoning Courage

by SwordofRebecca



Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: General, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-12
Updated: 2009-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordofRebecca/pseuds/SwordofRebecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you really want him? Then, grab him. Take him. Yaoi. Baralai X Isaaru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forget your fears

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This fic was supposed to have been in third person, but it ended up being in first. It was also supposed to be in the usual past tense, but ended up in present tense. I have never written in present tense before. I blame Luc Court. Anyway, this particular fic has nothing to do with my other Baralai/Isaaru stories. This was supposed to be a one shot, but no, it won't be. This fic is also a good example of how suddenly things can change when writing(I couldn't bring myself to have Baralai's own friends placing bets). Oh well. Enjoy.

I should be happy, but I'm not. It is rare for the Crimson Squad to have a break, so quite naturally we choose to stay at the Mi'ihen Travel Agency since it is closest to our final destination. Unfortunately, everyone else seems to think the same thing because it feels like all of Spira choose this place too. Not that I blame them, since most of them are Crusaders participating in Operation Mi'ihen. However, the noise is unbearable as it throbs and ebbs through me like a headache. Two things keep me from running off to anywhere but here: my friends, and the presence of a blue robed Summoner. I do not know his name, but I wish to, as I remember how he caught my eye as soon as we walked into this place. Nooj sits across from me, nursing a dark colored drink as though it were his lover. Paine is between Nooj and myself. She doesn't have a drink as she has just finished hers and is waiting for another. Next to me, sits Gippal, who drinks a clear liquid that I know isn't water. In fact, I am the only one in the group who doesn't have an alcoholic drink. I never understood why my friends found it necessary to drink such a thing, but I decide not to bother asking. I have a simple glass of water in front of me, and I keep looking down at the ice as it glistens under the last few rays of the sunlight. I turn it this way and that, watching the ice water slosh around before I finally decide to take a sip. I know it will be sundown in a couple hours.

I am with my friends, everyone is excited, most people have everything they want today and yet I am not happy. It isn't just the crowd, or the constant sounds of various voices, it is the male Summoner who sits at the bar. His two Guardians are in their rooms and he is alone, except for a fellow Crimson Squad candidate. I still do not know the Summoner's name. I wish to. I watch the two men intently, my muscles tensing as the Summoner sizes the fellow Squad member up. I wish the soldier would just go away. I remember how the others went away as the Summoner waved them all off, and I felt a certain satisfaction when they did. I hope that the result would be the same now. How dare anyone try to go after a Summoner! Don't they understand that he is going on a Pilgrimage to bring about the Calm? Don't they realize that I am better suited--no. My grip tightens around the glass of water, but the icy feeling does nothing to alleviate the burning inside of me.

"I'm okay," I tell my friends when they look at me with concern. I am not okay. I feel sick. I look back at the Summoner and I grit my teeth when the soldier puffs up like a prized Chocobo. As if someone so esteemed as the Summoner would ever be impressed by that!

"You know you want me!" The Crimson Squad Candidate says, sounding too sure of himself, which was why I am happy to witness the Summoner take him down a little bit.

"If I had wanted you," he snaps, his voice soft, yet more incisive than a well made sword, "I would have had you a long time ago." The Summoner's voice is a soft tenor and yet I know that he is capable of being heard above anything. It gives me great pleasure. But, the foolish fellow Squad member does not relent and I look at him with disdain. Something I usually don't feel for anyone.

"But, you can have me now!" The soldier replies, and he holds out his arms, expecting the Summoner to just embrace him. I feel nauseous and I roll my eyes. How can people act like that? What do they expect to happen?

"I don't want you!" The Summoner answers, "I don't want you now. I don't want you later. I don't ever want you, so kindly go away."

I am elated to hear this, and I helplessly smile as the Squad member again puffs up, but walks away muttering, "Your loss."

Hmph. I would say it is the Summoner's gain. It is now my chance to finally gather enough courage to go and speak to him, but I am still sitting with my friends as though I am somehow glued to the seat. I know for certain that I'm the only one who is keeping me here, but I feel that I have no choice but to remain until I see that the time is right. But, when would that be? The sun will be going down soon and what would happen then? I do not want to wait too long, but I honestly believe that approaching the Summoner now would be a bad idea. Paine interrupts me from my thoughts, her second drink in her hand. It is a fruit drink with strawberries and cream, but I know it has an alcoholic substance in it.

"That must have been the one hundredth person he's rejected today," she says, looking somewhat amused.

I do not know how many people the Summoner has sent away. I have lost count, but that is one of the reasons why I do not approach him. I would rather not be a statistic, nor do I want to chance being humiliated. Still, if I do nothing, I will never know if I could have him. I just don't know what do, and I hate every second of it. My gaze is drawn to him, to his dark crimson hair tied back with a topknot. I want to walk over there and remove it. I want to see his hair fall over his face. I want to see his face, his eyes, the rest of his robes. Does he wear many layered robes or does he wear only the dark blue grey one that covers his back? What color are his eyes? His skin? How does he sound up close? I have so many questions, they overwhelm me, but I still do not dare approach him. Instead, I just stare at his back, berating myself.

"I'd say at least a million," Gippal replies as he knocks back his own drink. I barely hear it, especially when I discover that some of my questions now have answers.

My eyes widen when the Summoner turns around, looking towards me. I gasp quietly. My goodness, I am enamoured. His face is finely featured, but slightly covered by the red locks that aren't preened into the ponytail. His is indeed wearing more than one robe. The first layer is the dark greyish blue one, but it is sleeveless and lined with sea green. The second is a lighter cerulean, but lined with a light lavender. This one has sleeves, and is trimmed at the ends with yellow and white. The third is completely white and it matches his fingerless gloves. I am not content. I must know more for it seems like every question answered only raises new ones. I cannot see the color of his eyes. I do not know how kissa--um--full his lips are. I do not know if his robes are held together or if they are open. He looks right at me, and my heart misses a beat. I immedietly look away. I begin to curse my cowardice. I could look into his eyes, but I don't.

Nooj looks at me, "You want him?"

Even now Nooj still shocks me. His bluntness almost paralyzes me and I find myself unable to say anything. I wish I could, but I can't seem to. I fear how my friends would respond if I am to say yes.

"I--don't know what you're talking about," I manage to say with as much of a straight face as possible. Nonetheless, my friends see right through me.

"The Summoner?" Gippal asks, but he already knows the answer because I put my hand on my forehead. I have forgotten how to lie properly.

"The Summoner," Paine echoes as she imbibes more of her beverage. She is nodding. She too can read me as though I am an open book. I should learn how to close myself more carefully. I do not want them laughing at me. Nooj continues to stare at me as if he could get through any of my defenses.

"Too bad," he shrugs, "you can't have him."

I almost drop my jaw at Nooj's statement. He says it with such certainty that it infuriates me. My eyes flicker over to the Summoner and I hope that Nooj is only trying to make me more determined and less frightened.

"Forget him," he continues, and I feel betrayed, "he's way out of your league."

I lean forward, "Why do you say that?"

"He's a Summoner," Paine replies, sounding as though that was answer enough. I know what being a Summoner entails, but I am not content with her answer.

"So, what if he is?" I demand. My friends look shocked. I suppose they should be. I don't usually raise my voice, but this isn't a usual situation.

"Come on, Baralai," Gippal shakes his head, just before he tilts back in his seat. He is looking towards the Summoner, but not at him. I honestly don't blame him. The vast majority of the Al Bhed are opposed to Summoners dying to save the world from Sin. "He's a Summoner and Summoners--"

"Die," Nooj finishes. He is looking right at the Summoner, but soon turns his attention to me. "I know Summoners try to live normal lives before their Pilgrimage, but it's possible that the reason why he has rejected so many people is because he doesn't see the point in being with anyone."

"What a load of crap," Gippal argues. "It's not like Baralai wants a relationship," he nudges me. "Right?"

As much as I hate to admit it, my best friend is right, but only because I know that a relationship with the Summoner would hardly be practical since I don't know him. I'd like to get to know him, but I'm still sitting here, hoping I don't lose my opportunity. Taking my silence as agreement, Gippal pats me on the back.

"See? Baralai agrees," Gippal grins and gulps his drink.

"Maybe the Summoner doesn't see a point in that either," Nooj counters.

"No way!" Gippal shakes his head, and I want to vanish because my friend is getting a little too loud for my tastes. I hope the Summoner doesn't hear us. I would gladly die in his stead if he did. "He's a guy!"

"So?" Paine dismisses Gippal's statement with a wave of her gloved hand. "Not every guy has sex on his mind."

"We don't know anything about him," I finally have the courage to speak. "We ought not to be assuming anything."

"Except that he's not afraid of shooting people down," Paine answers.

I agree with this, but only because the Summoner's rejections are proven fact in a crowded Travel Agency. I just hope that if I do get rejected, he would be kind to me. I kick myself. How can I know what he would do if I never go up there? Nooj asked if I wanted him. My answer is yes. I do want him, but I am worried about being hurt. I never had this fear when I met my friends. I surmise that it was because we were all around the same age and in the same "league." Ugh, league. Thanks to Nooj, if I never hear that word again, it would be far too soon. Way out of my league? We'll see. Maybe a little later, but Gippal never gives me a chance for later to come.

"You can't have him just sitting there," he tells me. I know this, and I say so with a simple nod. Gippal leans towards me, "Then, go get him."

Goodness, he makes it sound like shooting a weak fiend. I will myself to say something.

"What if he-"

"No," Gippal cuts me off. "Don't think that way. Go up there knowing that you'll get him. Do you really want him?"

I nod.

The Al Bhed puts his arm around my shoulders, "Then, grab him. Take him." Paine and Nooj are smiling while they nod. I know they are thinking the same thing.

Again, Gippal makes it sound easy. All my friends make it sound easy. But, unlike myself, all three have little sense of caution. Nooj doesn't care whether he lives or dies, a fact I have always chided him about, but to no avail. Gippal is, I suppose, Gippal. And Paine? She doesn't have Nooj's title of "Deathseeker" or "the Undying", but she's otherwise little different than he is. I prefer to take calculated risks, which is why I don't just saunter up to the Summoner and act like I'm Yevon's gift to him. I certainly do not intend to "grab him and take him". I value my life. However, I know that my friends are right. I'll never have him just sitting here.

"Come on, Baralai," Paine urges me. "The longer you wait, the less likely he'll be there." She is right.

The stool beside the Summoner is still unoccupied, but I do not know how long it will remain that way. I take a few long breaths to still my rapidly beating heart. I can show neither fear nor weakness to the Summoner. I have yet to meet him, but I know that he would pounce if he senses either. If I am to be rejected by him, I want it done knowing that I was strong. I stand up and quietly put one booted foot in front of the other. The Summoner is only around ten paces away, but it feels like ten miles. I go on though, ignoring the stares from those who had already been rejected, ignoring the noise that seems ubiquitous, and ignoring my own doubts. Some people want me to fail, thus becoming another victim of the Summoner. It only increases my resolve.

I have questions. They still linger like the scent of alcohol that is passed all over this Agency. I want to learn about him. I want to study him the way one studies a painting. I want to hear the sound of his voice when he finally tells me his name. I want to know what he feels like when I finally have the courage to touch him.

I want to know him.


	2. Tell me your name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: It took me longer than I thought it would to get this chapter down. I've been doing other things. I haven't forgotten about my other fics and I haven't lost interest. It's just a question of getting the plot done and then writing it all. Anyway, I hope this chapter isn't disappointing. I'm still not used to writing first person/present tense, so I hope there's no major booboos. Hopefully, I'll be faster next time around.

Notes: It took me longer than I thought it would to get this chapter down. I've been doing other things. I haven't forgotten about my other fics and I haven't lost interest. It's just a question of getting the plot done and then writing it all. Anyway, I hope this chapter isn't disappointing. I'm still not used to writing first person/present tense, so I hope there's no major booboos. Hopefully, I'll be faster next time around.

* * *

I am sitting next to him, willing my heart to beat slow and steady. From the corner of my eye, I see the Summoner tense, so I choose to say nothing to him. Not yet. I have to be patient. I can afford to be now. I know my friends would not be patient, preferring to try and speak with the Summoner and then wonder why he rejects them. It is a mistake common among all those who have tried to attain him. I will make no such mistake.

It is difficult for me to decide just what to do because he is right next to me, holding a glass of what appears to be water. I begin to think of Gippal and how he has the same thing, but it is an illusion. My best friend has a clear alcohol that only resembles water. With the Summoner, I'm quite certain that is actually is water, and I'm glad of that. My thoughts are interrupted by the blond Al Bhed owner known as Rin. He stands behind the bar with a friendly, but businesslike smile on his face as he asks me what I would like to have. I politely ask for water. The Summoner snorts and this time, I turn entirely to him.

His face is shrouded by his hair, but I can see the outlines of his high cheekbones, but little else. I need him to turn to me. I need to see his eyes. Right now, that is the most important.

Speak, just speak. It is the only way he will turn. I take a breath.

"You too?" Oh, goodness, I sound like an idiot, and I want to die right here. He will kill me. He might as well because now I know that I am going to be humiliated in a crowded Travel Agency, everyone will laugh, and I'll just die.

"I beg your pardon?" He asks. Any other time, I'd sigh in relief, but my mouth doesn't allow it because my tongue is stuck on the roof of my mouth. His voice is silk laced with a poison that could knock out even the strongest person. It's no wonder many of the fellow Crimson Squad candidates fell victim to him, but this time, I want him to fall victim to me. I can't do that with my mouth failing me, so I will myself to open it and say something that will hopefully impress him.

"I was just wondering if I was the only one here who only ordered water."

Finally, he turns to me and I am stricken. The answers to my questions could not have come quickly enough. His eyes are blue, a very solid sort of blue that I can dive in and relax in its depths if he would allow me to. Right now, he is scanning me from the white of my hair to the brown leather of my boots. I don't find it disconcerting because I am doing the same with him. His robes are tied together by a light rope in knotted loops. I picture my fingers undoing them. When I look back into his eyes, he rests his gloved hand on his chin and speaks,

"You are."

I can't help but sigh. I honestly expected better because ever since I was a child, I always imagined Summoners being as pure as untouched ground. I never once imagined a Summoner drinking any kind of alcohol, much less a beverage that resembles Gippal's. My thoughts are interrupted as the Summoner leans forward, his sharp eyes fixated on my face.

"You must be one of the many who think who think that a Summoner is without any indulgence or desire," he states, his voice now low and lethal. Pure poison. I'm hoping that he kills me with one of his Aeons rather than with his look.

"I'm sorry," I quickly whisper as my courage slips away. I'm going to die right here, just like all the fellow Candidates before me. I imagine myself going back to my friends like a wounded fiend that manages to escape onslaught. They're going to laugh at me, feel sorry for me, and tell me that I at least took a risk. It doesn't seem the least bit appealing to me.

His smile is the sun breaking through dark clouds, "That's a first."

"Really?" I ask. I am ready to float in the air now. How easy it is for him to have this kind of power over me, but for now, I allow it. I must adapt to him the way water adapts to land. I know it is the only way I could have him where I want him.

"Yes," he nods, "It seems that most people here think that not only are they entitled to me, they have a right to put me on a ridiculously high pedestal and then complain when I don't even bother climbing up."

"I was just surprised, that's all," I respond. "I mean, all the past Summoners I studied just seemed so--"

"Perfect?"

I begin to chuckle, "Yea. It's wrong to think that way though."

"Indeed," the Summoner's eyes narrow, but I know that he is showing no anger towards me. He smiles again, and I would like more of that. "If it is any consolation, I seldom drink such beverages." He gestures to the drink, "My body is my temple, and I always make certain that I take care of it the best I can."

I understand this perfectly because I am the same way. The only difference is that I can't imagine myself drinking anything that my friends would drink. However, that doesn't mean I'm not curious about what the Summoner now has in his hand.

"What is that, anyway?"

He takes a sip before answering, "It is Yazu. The strongest liquor on all of Spira."

It figures that Gippal would drink something like that.

"Why would you drink something so strong?" I hope I'm not pushing the Summoner away when I ask this, but he smiles again.

"Because it is delicious for one, but it also gives me a feeling that I am alive."

Alive? That word reminds me that one day, this Summoner no longer will be, but I try not to think of that.

"I see," is my only response.

"I don't expect you to understand," he answers, still smiling.

"I don't know if I ever will," I say rather tersely. I remember how my friends would be nearly incoherent with drink while they were on a rare few days break. Why they would ever allow themselves to lose control like that would forever be lost on me. I know Nooj seeks death, but I also know that he would not try to gain it through alcohol. I think it must be to numb the pain he always seems to feel. As for Gippal and Paine, I suppose they find it enjoyable, but they never seem to the day after. Then, they keep doing it when the time is right.

"It's not necessary for you to understand," the Summoner comments, taking another sip of his drink. I stare intently at his mouth. I think about leaning over and pressing my lips against his. Has he ever been kissed before? Has he ever kissed anyone? Are his lips soft? How much of the 'Yazu' would I be able to taste when I finally do kiss him? It suddenly occurs to me that I still don't know his name. I can't do anything until I know his name.

"I'm sorry. I never heard your name," I say and the Summoner grins, his eyes piercing through my heart.

"That's because I never gave it," he answers and I am tempted to die right there, but I realize that he seems to be toying with me. I can't give up. I have to know his name. I was never like this when I first met my friends. I know that the man is a Summoner and I know what he has said to the others before him, but why should that make him different from Paine? When I first met her, I just went right up to her and asked her name. With the Summoner, I feel as though my brain is just leaking out of my ears. I want this stopped.

"May I ask what your name is?" I finally ask, and he presses his lips together. This makes me nervous, but it quickly vanishes when his smile returns.

"I am Isaaru."

Isaaru. I helplessly lean back and breathe out. I am beaming and I can't control it. Actually, I don't want to control it. I don't even want to hide it in my collar. Isaaru. His name is a caress, an embrace, a feeling of warmth and security as I imagine myself in his arms.

"What is your name?" He inquires after taking another sip from his beverage.

"Baralai." I wonder if he hears my name. I sound soft, shy, and worst of all, frightened. It's everything I don't want to sound like. I brace myself.

"Baralai...." he echoes. It's not a question. He does hear me and I am thankful for it. He rests his elbow on the bar. "Fitting...."

"Excuse me?"

Isaaru (Fayth! I could say this name a million times and it would never be enough) shakes his head. My first impulse is to do what Gippal would do and that is push as far as I could get away with. I would do this if I knew that Isaaru wouldn't push back, but I know that not only would Isaaru push back, he would push far. That is the last thing I want, so I choose to let it go. I watch him look at his glass, his index finger circling around the rim. He is pondering what to do. I can sense it. It's clear to me that he's so used to rejecting people that he is at a loss now. Despite his placid demeanor, I know he is echoing my fear, but his fear is what might happen should he either allow this to continue or end it now. He has doubts. How could I blame him? He is a Summoner and Summoners--

His blue eyes are suddenly upon me and I stifle my gasp. Does he mean to reject me? We know each other's names now, but does it make a difference? He said 'fitting' when he spoke my name, but does that really matter? I want to ask him if he intends to send me back to my table, and if so, then I wish he would just say so and get it over with! But, I do not do this.

"Please don't turn me away like you've done everyone else." Oddly enough, I do not sound like I am begging nor do I sound desperate. I sound like someone who knows he is needed, despite the misgivings of the other.

Isaaru raises his eyebrows before replying, "I don't intend to".

Thank Yevon.

I feel embolded now, so I ask him, "What did you mean when you said 'fitting'?"

"Your name has three meanings." I perk up, intending to hang on to his every word as though they were ropes hanging over a cliff. "One is 'in darkness and light', the other means 'child of the sea', but it's the third meaning that suits you best."

I tilt my head, "What is the third meaning?"

"'Son of heaven.' "

I am glad my skin is dark because I am blushing so furiously that I'm sure I'll burst into flames. Son of heaven? I did not know this, but I am glad to know of it now. I am always fascinated with meanings.

"What does your name mean?" I lean forward as I voice this question.

Isaaru takes a sip of his drink, " 'Fiery Light' ".

Now that is fitting considering what he has said to those who have come before me. Speaking of "Fiery Light", I look out the window near my friends' table and I see that the sun is now very close to the horizon because the clouds I can see are turning a light reddish purple. I look at Isaaru, who is now finishing his drink. Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm. He looks at me.

"I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do," I state as I grip tighter. I can feel the course fabric of his sleeve under the palm of my hand. I want to feel his pale skin. I want to see the contrast between my darkness and his light. He is still looking at me, but he is frowning, so I know I must be decisive, "I would be honored if you went outside with me to see the sunset."

He opens his mouth to reply, but he seems hesitant. I lick my lips to hold back my silent prayer that he does not reject me after all. I say nothing more, but I gently run my fingertips across the knuckles of his hand. Finally, he looks at me.

"The honor is mine." He is smiling. Oh Yevon, he is smiling.

I now feel as though I could fly to the heavens he claims I am the son of. I slide off the stool, holding his hand. I do not wish to let go. I can hear the mummers of the other patrons and the Crimson Squad candidates. I'm not concerned about how they feel about all of this. I don't have to be. I smile at my friends as I pass their table.

"Score!" Gippal shouts, holding up what must be his third glass of that "Yazu". Paine and Nooj are also raising their drinks. They do not need to say anything. Gippal has already taken care of that. I smile at all three of them, thankful to have people who I can count on when I am troubled. Isaaru picks up on this because he nods at me, his grin widening.

"They helped you, didn't they?" He asks, and when I nod, he comments, "You must be grateful for them."

"Oh, you have no idea," I answer as I lead him out of the Travel Agency.


	3. Beautiful Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author Notes: Bleagh. About time I got this one done. As usual, I'm not too satisfied with it, but at least it's been updated. Baralai does get a little teary-eyed here, but I always pegged him as someone not afraid to cry when he doesn't have to hide anything. IMO, of course. Spot the reference!  
> _

_Author Notes: Bleagh. About time I got this one done. As usual, I'm not too satisfied with it, but at least it's been updated. Baralai does get a little teary-eyed here, but I always pegged him as someone not afraid to cry when he doesn't have to hide anything. IMO, of course. Spot the reference!  
_

When I look at the sky, I sometimes wonder about the point of art. I have nothing against the fine arts, but what could possibly compare to what everyone in Spira sees every dusk? The sun itself is the paint as it drapes its oranges, purples and reds across the easel of the horizon. It all spills down into the Mi'ihen Bay and sparkles like the living crystal in Macalania. An artist's renderings are but cheap imitations. They should stick to portraits and abstractions. Actually, no, because no artist in the world could ever capture the essence of the man who stands beside me.

The wind lifts his hair and carries a few strands over his face. He ignores even as his topknot is also lifted. The breeze loves him, it seems, because it is always caressing his robes, trying to glide across his pale skin. Isaaru holds his head high and looks at the setting sun as though it's the only thing that could ever command his attention, and even then, it's only because he allows it. I gently squeeze his hand. His only response is that he squeezes back.

His gloves are silk. I know this because I can feel the texture when my thumb moves over the top of his hand. I'm not surprised. What does surprise me is that I feel his strength and wonder if he does more than just Summoning. I have no doubt that he would dabble in magic, but I could swear that he has muscle. Not like Nooj or even Gippal, but muscles like my own. I don't dare ask. Not now. Now he stares at the sun and I wish I could see his eyes that match the ocean, but his crimson hair is blocking them from my sight. I have no idea how the both of us look against the setting sun, but I am certain that Isaaru looks majestic against the pink and purple clouds as the bridge-like ruin faces him.

He will never see any of this again. My breath catches in my throat, and I do my best to conceal it, but it's not enough. Isaaru's hand slips away from mine. I suddenly feel cold, like the remaining light has run away from me and taking the warmth with it. He turns to me, his hair now brushing beyond his face and I can see his blue eyes again.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice a blanket that warms my blood.

But, I am not okay, so I lie.

"Yes, yes of course I am. It's just that the sunset is beautiful, like a painting, or poetry. You'd never think that Sin would attack anywhere."

Isaaru's first answer is that he looks back at the sun. "The sunset always changes, depending on where you are. You can never see the same one twice if you are always moving. Yet, even if you are in the same place, it always looks different. Like someone washing an easel and then trying to paint identical pictures that never are identical."

"You will never come back here, will you?" I ask while my eyes follow the locks of his topknot. He would look even better with his hair down.

"No."

No. He will never come back here. He will continue on his Pilgrimage and see far fewer sunsets than the rest of Spira, and when he is gone, others will see many more.

"Will you be back here?" He suddenly inquires.

I shake my head. "I don't know. I think so."

"You do not know your own fate. I cannot fault you for that. Yet at the same time, you must be frightened."

I shake my head. "No, actually, I'm not. Are you?" Are you afraid of dying? Are Summoners ever afraid of dying?

"I fear nothing." He replies, his smile partially obscured by a new gust of wind that insists on toying with his hair. I should be the one to do that. Later. Yes, of course, later.

"I wish I could say that, but I can't," I answer. A sigh escapes my mouth.

"It's okay. You have courage."

I do? I blink and his smile washes away my shock. I never thought I had courage. I always think of myself as someone who fights only when he has to and is always afraid, not like my friends. Not like the Summoner.

"Don't be so surprised," he continues, taking a small step forward. I wish he would move closer. "You're very hard on yourself, I can sense it."

"I'm not like Nooj," my mouth speaks beyond my brain and I want to jump off the cliff.

With eyebrows raised, Isaaru asks, "You mean the Deathseeker?"

My eyebrows are next to raise, "You know him?"

"I know of him. He is known as the Deathseeker and Nooj the Undying. His recklessness in battle is known throughout the world."

"Indeed." I nod. "I want to be like him."

"So do many people" Isaaru replies. His smile has faded. Clearly he does not approve of Nooj's exploits. "I admire his prowess as a warrior, but I cannot admire his desire for death."

"I don't desire death," I say, hoping that it would correct Isaaru's assumptions about me. "I just want his prowess. I want to be seen as courageous and daring, like he is."

"You already are. Who cares how others see you?"

I blink again. This time, it is accompanied by a questioning frown and a step backward. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you approached me."

"So have many people." I am honestly at a loss, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I still do not know him, and I'd like to remedy that. "You turned them all away. Was it because they were afraid?"

"I turned them away because they were not afraid."

"You mean they were acting foolishly?"

"Yes. Remember when I said that they acted like Yevon's gift to me?"

I nod.

"It was not born of any sort of courage, it was born out of alcohol, strong egos, and weak wills. I sensed it immediately. It's why I was harsh with some of them." Isaaru narrows his eyes. "It is the only language such people would ever understand."

"So, you accepted me because I was afraid?" I ask. I remember how I felt when I first approached him. I thought my heart would stop, but I pressed onward and he is with me now. I still feel my nerves tingling under my skin while I feel my stomach ache just a little.

"I accepted you because you overcame your fear. That is what courage is. It is not the lack of fear, but the ability to feel it and then overcome it. You did that when you came to me, when you spoke to me, and especially when you asked to come out here with you." He folds his hands over his robes. "There is, however, one shallow reason why I chose to accept you."

I think I have a good idea what it could be. I can feel my cheeks flush. Still, I ask, "Why?"

He takes a step forward. I can see his hand twitching, but he does not move it. "Because you are stunningly beautiful."

I want to melt into the ground when he says that. I wonder what he thinks of himself. When I finally saw his face for the first time, I thought I was rendered paralyzed by his sharp eyes alone. I considered it a miracle to even think, much less speak. Now, I am feeling the exact same way.

"Surely you must know this, Son of Heaven."

In all honesty, I do know it. It's precisely why people do giggle at me, whisper about me, or give me extras when I did not ever ask for them. In the Crimson Squad, my looks never seemed to make a difference and that is fine by me, because while I'll do whatever I can to maintain what I have, I consider what is in the heart a little more important.

"I do know," I reply, my smile reflecting the Summoner's. Does he know the effect he has on me? Does he know how gorgeous he is? He is like the sunset, like the sparkling water below. His voice is the gentle breeze lifting my jacket. His smile is the stars slowly appearing as the sun fades into the horizon. Fades...my face falls and I can see only my hands because the only other option is to be blinded by future tears.

"Is something the matter?" Isaaru asks.

I look up. "You call me beautiful? You..." I sigh. "You are..." I wish I could come up with the words, but they seem to fly like leaves and feathers.

"I am...beautiful?" Isaaru finishes, his eyebrows raised. He has some nerve to even act shocked.

"Of course you are..." My voices comes out a whisper, but the wind carries it to his ears because he is smiling.

"Is this why you approached me?"

"I only got to see your back, but I knew that there was something about you, something special." Someone I wanted to touch, to feel, to know in more ways than one.

"What if I were hideous?" He looks mischievous now, like he is joking.

"What if I were?" I counter, refusing to answer his question. I'd rather not imagine him being hideous.

"I would have either charred you with an Aeon or knocked you into the middle of next year," Isaaru answers. He is as honest as he possibly could be.

"That's shallow..." I say.

"Yes, it is," he replies with a nod. "But, it is reality. Those who are not blessed with beauty must compensate in any way they can. That, however, does not mean that those who possess beauty will be given a free pass."

"Something you can attest to, I'm sure," I reply, trying to hold back my laughter as I remember all the fellow Crimson Squad candidates trying to take him.

Isaaru's tittering is lost in the wind. "Yes, and it's something that you seem to have avoided. Is it because of your friends?"

I nod. "It could be. It could be also be that those who know who I am are aware that I--" _was_ the son of a Priestess and a Warrior Monk. _Was._ Just shy of a couple months ago, I could have easily said _am. _That same time, Kilika was still standing. Now, it is gone. As my parents are gone, and Isaaru will be...

"You what?" Isaaru frowns.

I lower my eyes. "I was the son of a Yevon Priestess and a Warrior Monk."

"Was. Your parents are dead."

The way he says it is just so matter-of-factly that it inflames me, but my fire dies as quickly as it is born. Many people die everyday on Spira. If not from Sin, then from fiends. If not from fiends, then from many things. Still, they were my parents and I have every right to be upset.

"Yes, they're dead." I say it harder than I should have and I think my eyes are hard because the Summoner nods in a way that is wordlessly apologetic.

"Forgive me," Isaaru says. "It was Sin, wasn't it?"

"Yes." My gaze is no longer short-browed. "I was in Bikanel Desert with my friends. We were training, and the sergeant was giving cards to people who have lost relatives or loved ones. I always felt for people who received a card, and I told Gippal this. Then, the sergeant came to me and gave me one."

Isaaru shut his eyes, but he is listening.

"I didn't feel anything at first," I continue. "I was too surprised, too shocked, and then there was the denial. I didn't want to believe it, even when people died regularly because of Sin. I guess that's typical. When people you love die, you just don't believe it. My friends tried to comfort me, but I refused it. I felt like it would have just made things worse for me. Gippal went inside the tent I was sitting in. I was angry at first, but then I just gave in to him and cried on his shoulder."

"He's your best friend, isn't he?" Isaaru inquires, his mellifluous voice full of sympathy.

"Yes. We are very close. He encouraged me to approach you."

"I see," Isaaru replied. "So, you are in the Crimson Squad."

That is not a question and my lips part because of it. I don't know what to say. It's supposed to be a secret, but I decide to go ahead and nod. "Yes. It's an elite force to provide leadership for the Crusaders."

"Don't you mean to spy on the Crusaders?"

I sigh. "Yes, but I think that the Crimson Squad candidates are being spied on too."

"Of course. Yevon's Priests have never entirely approved of the Crusaders, and the Crusaders have never allowed the Al Bhed into their ranks, even though they are using the Machina now. It is no wonder that Gippal is with you. I knew immediately when I saw him with your friends." Isaaru's head tilts to the side, and his topknot is picked up by the wind. "Why did you join the Crimson Squad? You have the look of a Summoner."

I am grinning. I am not in the least bit surprised that he would be able to see what I could have been. "That would be because I was trained to be one for three years. I can send just as well you could, and I can start my Pilgrimage at anytime. Just before I joined the Crimson Squad, I was ready to begin, but my parents had forbidden it. They didn't mind my being a Summoner, I was among the most gifted, but what they did mind was losing their only son." I close my eyes. "So, I obeyed, became part of the Crimson Squad, and lost them instead."

"Baralai, even if you became a full Summoner--"

"I know." I open my eyes. "Believe me, I know." I look out at sun that is now sinking almost entirely into the horizon. "Now, I could easily go to Besaid, and start my Pilgrimage, but I won't leave my friends."

"I understand," Isaaru says. "I know that Nooj the Undying would never be a Guardian of yours, unless he could find another way during your Pilgrimage. I don't know anything about the girl, but I know for certain that Gippal would also object."

"That's right, and as for Paine, she wouldn't want me to be a Summoner either. They're not the only reason."

"Do you believe that there are alternatives to Summoners?" Isaaru's eyes are slight narrowed as he asks that question.

"When I joined the Crimson Squad, I realized that perhaps people like Nooj and Gippal were right, that there has to be another way."

"There is none." Isaaru says this with certainty that my muscles tense

"What makes you so sure?" I demand.

"Before I became a Summoner, I was trained to be a Warrior Monk in Yevon's ranks. My parents were killed when I was fifteen years old." Isaaru's lips press into a fine line. "You grieved, I have no doubt of that, but try grieving when you are left with an eight year old and a newborn child. I raised them alone, but I managed to maintain my dedication to knowledge and I learned that every single Crusader effort to defeat Sin was met with disaster."

"This will be different," I insist. "The Al Bhed and the Crusaders are working together. The Machina is powerful-" But, Isaaru cuts me off with the wave of a gloved hand.

"For hundreds of years, both the Al Bhed and the Crusaders have been saying the same things. 'We could defeat Sin without Summoners giving their lives', 'Sure, we lost, but things will be different next time'. Next time..." Isaaru shakes his head. "It's always the same thing. Suffer losses that are grievous, but always claim that next time will be different." He glares. "There is no 'next time'. They will lose, and it will be the worst defeat in the History of Spira."

"Don't say that! You can't predict the future! You can't possibly know what would happen."

"You want to predict the future? One must look into the past, and I have seen the past countless times. The Al Bhed will shoot first, and the Sin will deflect the attack, then strike back. Most of the Al Bhed and Crusaders will be killed. All for nothing."

I shake my head the same way a child shakes their head against a parent's admonishments. "No, no. They could win. They could defeat Sin and you won't have to worry...to worry...about dying."

"I don't worry about dying, Baralai," Isaaru answers. I watch his topknot sway in the breeze when he shakes his head before looking directly at me. "I worry more about you."

"Me?" I frown. I know what he means, but I am not a Summoner.

He is now a foot away from me, and I am tempted to grab him, hold him in my arms and never let go. Instead, I choose to swim in his blue eyes as he replies.

"Yes, you. I can picture it all now. Some will be disintegrated by the force of Sin's blow. Others will die a slow, painful death, their broken bodies sprawled over the jagged earth of Mushroom Rock Road. They will cry for help, but no one will be able to save them in time. When they finally die, they may end up becoming fiends if a Summoner is not available to send them. Then, there are those who will never be the same. If the toxin from Sin doesn't get them, then their own memories surely will."

I look away. I can't help it. I can't look into his when he is saying things like this. I refuse to believe that the Crusaders will fail because the alternative would make me weep a thousand oceans. I feel his hand on my face, forcing me to look back at him, my lips gumming shut. I can feel the silk again, the strength of his hand. I lean into his touch, wanting to feel it all over my body.

He speaks once more. This time, his voice caresses me the same way his hand does. "And what of you? You could be among those who disappear into the FarPlane or become a fiend." Before I could say anything, he cups my chin. "Even if you do survive, you would be maimed, your beauty marred by the force of Sin's blow, your intelligent mind deeply affected by the toxin. Even if you recover, you would never be the same."

With a quick shake of my head, I pull away. "My death won't be a guarantee, you know that. No matter what you say about The Crusaders, they could just as easily win this time, and many more live would be spared from Sin. A Summoner's death is a guarantee." My breath comes out in gasps, but I manage to keep speaking. "Your death is a guarantee, you know it, and I know it. No matter where in Spira you end up, _you will die." _

"Baralai, I have chosen my own path. I accept--"

"I know you do!" I snap, silencing him. He looks shocked. Good, he should be. It is unseemly for me to do something like this to a Summoner, but it cannot be helped. I can feel the tears building within me, and that can't be helped either. "I know..." I take a deep breath, a feeble attempt to dam my eyes. I shut them. I feel Isaaru's hands on my arms, and that action releases a few of my tears.

"What is the matter?" He asks.

"I am picturing you on Mt. Gagazet. You will die alone..." He backs away, but I can still feel his body close to me. "You will be driven insane by grief as your two Guardians fall, the little boy first and then the other. You will wander the bleak Mountain, determined to finish your Pilgrimage, but you will not." I open my eyes, not caring if tears streak my face or not. "I see you...on Gagazet, your body so overcome with cold that you collapse, your hair red as snow as it escapes your topknot, your eyes wide shut as they glisten with frozen tears..." I fall silent. The image is so vivid, that I am frightened, but I still look at Isaaru , who lowers his head.

"Do you really believe that I will die on Gagazet?" Isaaru looks up, his glaring eyes demanding an answer.

I ball my hands into fists and take many deep breaths before regaining control. "If Gagazet doesn't kill you, then Zanarkand will."

"And Sin along with me!"

"You will die..." I grit my teeth. "You will die..." I will never have you...not a even a small chance...

"Why are you so concerned? You don't know me..."

"But, that's just it!" I say with such passion that my own heart jumps and so does he. "I will never know you! No matter what we might end up doing, I'll never do any of it again! I'll never talk to you again! I'll never see you again! " Without even thinking, I wrap my arms around him. I hear him gasp, but I don't let go. If he strikes me or harms me with an Aeon, then so be it, but he does neither. Instead, he answers with an embrace of his own. I could swear that I feel his heartbeat under his heavy robes. Against the crisp sunset air, I feel the warmth and security I yearned for in the tavern. I just didn't want it like this, not with tears, not with facing the reality so soon. I just want to dream, if only for a second. I dream of him ending his Pilgrimage, so I can have a greater chance not just to have him, but to keep him.

My silent tears dry against his coarse robes, and I feel my spine tingle as his fingers gently stroke my back. I can feel his cheek against my hair.

"Even if I did not die, there is no guarantee that we would see each other again. It happens. People meet, and sometimes they part ways, never again to cross paths." His voice is soothing, but his words are not. My chest aches.

"If you are alive, even when we part ways, there is always a chance, no matter how small." I whisper.

I can feel his breath across my hair when he answers me. "I have no intention of giving up nor do I intend to lose to another Summoner."

His answer doesn't surprise me. Of course he won't give up. Very few Summoners truly do. That is reality, and I can't accept it. I look into his eyes. Our lips are close, very close. All I have to do is lean slightly and I will feel his succulent lips. I will taste the licorice flavored Yazu that lingers in his breath. He says I have courage, but I find no evidence of that now because I am frozen. He has me in his dark blue eyes, and it saps all my will away.

"Please..." I whisper with such weakness that I am truly ashamed. Still, I don't look down. "Please..."

"You know I can't give up," Isaaru's reply is also a whisper, but it is stronger. He is always stronger.

"That's not what I mean..." When I see the dawning in his eyes, I decide that I have nothing more to say now. I must do something before it is too late. Summoning my courage, I press my lips against his. I can imagine him pushing me away and even striking me, but he doesn't. I can imagine him yell, 'how dare you', but he doesn't. Instead, he responds, and the licorice is much stronger now that I can taste it rather than smell it. His arms are wrapped tightly around me and I could feel his hands clutch at the back of my forest green coat. My loins ache for him as I wrap my arms are around his neck while my fingers tangle in his topknot. If I had anymore courage, I would undo it, and watch his red hair wave free in the wind, but my courage is spent on his tongue, his lips, and the taste of Yazu.

Approaching travellers force us to pull away. With the heat of our bodies separate, I hold myself in a tight embrace. Isaaru is doing the same. Since the sun is nothing more than abstract shades of crimson rays, I know that people will now be leaving the Agency to head back for Luca or wherever they intend to go before it becomes truly night. We cannot stay at the cliff and we both know it. I look at Isaaru, knowing that I don't have to say anything.

"I have a room of my own," he says. He takes a step forward. "If you wish, you could stay the night with me."

If I wish? This is what I've always wanted. I grab his hands and they become conduits that return warmth to both our bodies.

"I would be honored to."


	4. More than a one night stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: I don't want to begin to imagine how long it's been since "Summoning Courage" was updated. Let's not even go there. This is the chapter that explains why the rating is what it is. Better safe than sorry. Spot the references. One of them should be painfully obvious if you watch a certain series on Showtime! For those of you who waited patiently for an update, I hope you enjoy the final chapter._

_Author's Notes: I don't want to begin to imagine how long it's been since "Summoning Courage" was updated. Let's not even go there. This is the chapter that explains why the rating is what it is. Better safe than sorry. Spot the references. One of them should be painfully obvious if you watch a certain series on Showtime! For those of you who waited patiently for an update, I hope you enjoy the final chapter._

As soon as I reach Isaaru's room, I immediately regret joining the Crimson Squad for about three minutes. His room is lavishly decorated with furniture made with dark Macalanian Wood. His bed is covered with white Guado satin, and the open window lifts drapes made of the same material. He's earned this. I do not doubt this for a single moment, but this luxury comes from everyone knowing that he will die. Of course people will pamper him when they know that his death will ensure their lives. I do not blame them for a single moment, but do they grieve for him? I somehow doubt it.

He is standing in front of the window now, the wind once again caressing him as the light curtains envelop him like another layer of his robes. I wish the moon would hurry up and bring its light there. There's a glow lamp that lights the room, but I'd like to put it out, so the moon could illuminate the Summoner.

"It will be a beautiful night," he says, his voice as soft as the cool air.

"It usually is around here." I approach him the same way one approaches a deity. "I love this area."

"Hmph. I can see why."

I am now standing right next to him. All I have to do is reach out, and I can untie his robes. "Are you sure you want to leave the window open? I've heard about Summoners going missing."

Isaaru shakes his head. "I don't worry about that. My brothers are nearby and I am more than capable of taking care of myself." He turns to me and smiles. "Besides, I have you with me. I have nothing to fear. Be assured of that."

I am assured as I look into his blue eyes. I don't know what he could be thinking, but I do know that it's time to finally do more than just talk and share a kiss. This is my only chance and we both know it. I only hope that he is willing.

"Isaaru..." I whisper as I place my hands on his shoulders and let them trail down his chest to the series of loops that keep his robes together. So far, he only has a mysterious smile on his lips, but he does nothing to stop me.

Now every question that I had of him will be answered. I know what he looks like, I know what he sounds like, I know the warmth of his body covered in robes, and I know the taste of his lips. All that remains is his very body--his naked body and mine. His robes are a puzzle I find easy to solve as I watch the cord unravel under my fingertips. Isaaru's smile has faded, but his lips part while he shuts his eyes.

"Is this your first time?" I suddenly ask while my hands are more than prepared to remove the first layer of his robes.

"No." He whispers as though it should be common knowledge that Summoners engage in this.

I am surprised, just like I was with the Yazu, only alcohol and something like this are two different things. I know they often intertwine, but I don't believe Isaaru would mix the two.

"Don't tell me you're surprised again." He is amused, the look in his blue eyes cause me to chuckle.

"Sorry."

"Is this your first?" He asks.

Despite the cool air breezing into the room, I feel quite warm. "No." I remember the desert nights spent with Gippal, the awkward laughter we shared, and our unorthodox friendship. With Isaaru, it's different and not just because this will be our first and last time together.

"Ah." Isaaru lifts his chin, amusement written all over his handsome face. "Color me surprised."

"Did you think I was pure?" I ask, unable to stifle my giggling. I feel like a child.

"Quite honestly, yes. At least I thought that you would be more pure than I am. I mean, you had water instead of a stronger drink. I figured that would be telling, but it's not the first time I've been wrong." He shrugs. "It may not the be the last."

I desperately want him to be wrong about Operation Mi'ihen, but I don't say it. I just can't do it. The dark blue sleeveless robe finally finds itself folded over a chair. I part the ties that hold the second, sea colored layer of the robe. "No, I don't think it will be." At least I have the courage to utter those words.

Isaaru presses his lips together. I know he wants to say something, but it's clear that he opts out of it because his gaze follows the flowing curtains. "I hope I'm wrong about your mission."

I freeze before I begin removing the second layer of his robes. "I think you will be." I have to keep believing that because the alternative would eat my heart away. I untie the knots, finding them far simpler than I thought. Maybe it's because I focus on them instead of waiting for his inevitable answer.

He sighs, his eyes lower, and I can see the sadness on his face. "Unfortunately, I am seldom wrong."

"Seldom doesn't mean always." I am almost pleading as I remove the final layer of his robes. It is a simple white robe that covers a simple white outfit. His black belt and knee high boots are the only color that remains. With his robes gone, he looks different now. I can see how he could very easily be a Warrior Monk. He's not like the legendary Auron, but it's clear he has muscle. He works out, even a blind person could see that. I suppose he would have to if he wants to make it to Zanarkand, but I can see that he is no average Summoner. "I wonder what you would do if you are wrong? What if Sin is defeated tomorrow. What then?"

"I honestly do not know." Isaaru folds his arms. He is looking at me now, a helpless smile on his face. Just how I like it. I don't want him to feel any sort of sorrow. I don't doubt he'll feel it all on his Pilgrimage. "I would probably just rebuild my life with my brothers. I kept my things in storage, and when I die, others will keep them."

When? The way he says that just nauseates me. How can he be so sure? But, I never say this. I simply lack the courage. "And when you don't?"

"When I don't?" He chuckles as if I am joking. I'm not joking. "Should I not die, then I'll simply take them back, and live in Bevelle. Probably go back to being a mixture of a scholar, warrior monk, and magic user. I'll continue taking care of my younger brothers and just live." He shrugs. "But, Baralai, don't dream like that. I know that it's not reality."

"There are Summoners other than yourself." I state, however, it doesn't sway Isaaru.

"I know, but I am sure to win."

I think that arguing with Isaaru is like fighting a wall. I guess that's why I like him so much. I'd give anything to have his confidence. I reach up and try to undo his topknot. It's tight, so it doesn't come off as easily. We touch foreheads before Isaaru finally reaches up and undoes the ponytail himself. I take a step back to watch his auburn hair fall past his shoulders. He looks better with his hair down.

"How can you be sure?" I ask as I run my hands through his soft hair.

"I have to be. You don't get to be a Summoner by being unsure of yourself. You know that as well as I do." He looks right into my eyes. "Every Summoner must be certain of victory, or they fail before they even begin. The ones that quit usually have lost their confidence. The ones that die before Zanarkand..." He closes his eyes.

_You will die alone...your body so overcome with cold that you collapse... your hair red as snow... eyes wide shut as they glisten with frozen tears..._

"Isaaru, forgive me." I gently grab fistfuls of his hair. "I shouldn't have said those things. I couldn't help it."

"It's quite alright." Now his hands run through my hair. "You are a kind soul. Kinder than I could ever be." He begins to undo the red cord that ties the collar of my green jacket.

"I wish I were more like you. I wouldn't want a bunch of people constantly hitting on me."

"I never said you were weak." Isaaru pulls open my coat, enabling me to simply shrug out of it. "Remember, if you were weak, I would not have allowed you near me."

I smile helplessly as I fold my coat neatly and hang it on the nearby coat stand. I don't want him to see my machina weapon. I hear the wind rustle the grass outside, and Isaaru looks back out the window while the curtains try to embrace him in their silken light. When I stand beside him, I can see the full moon that illuminates everything from the stars to the very ground. A part of me wonders what it would have been like if we stayed outside. The moon would have given Isaaru a glow that would have elevated him to godhood. I wish I could see that, but the cold prevents that. However, it doesn't prevent Isaaru from keeping the window open.

"You don't intend to close the window, do you?" I ask.

He shakes his head.. "No. I always sleep with the windows open. It's important to have cool, fresh air upon you while in your room." A sudden breeze grabs his red hair. He smiles. "I told you it would be a beautiful night."

I agree. "I can't begin to imagine what the sea would look like now." We smile in unison.

"Like white Guado silk thrown into the waves. I wish this room had such a view, but alas, it doesn't. No room has it. We'd have to go back outside, but I don't believe that's a feasible option."

Of course not. I'd rather stay in here. Yes, the room is quite cool from the open window, but it's much more bearable than the chill outside. I put my arms around him, my head resting against his shoulder. He answers with an embrace of his own. I love how his auburn hair tickles the nape of my neck. I am saddening in knowing that this will only happen once in my life. I can never forget that.

"Don't be sad, Baralai." Isaaru says as if reading my mind. He turns to me. "Just remember every moment we spent together. If you ever find yourself far from your friends or lonely in any way, just close your eyes and think of me. That way, I will always be with you."

The way he says it makes me want to burst into crying fits, but I don't. He's looking right me. How I can allow any tears when he stares into my eyes? I manage to smile. "Thank you."

"Believe me, Baralai, it's my pleasure." He is also smiling, but I can a certain sadness in his ocean eyes. Isaaru inches closer before leaning forward and suddenly claiming my lips. He is quite forceful this time. Reminds me of Gippal in a way, only I am certain that Isaaru is far more experienced than even my best friend. I wrap my arms around him while I find myself unable to keep up. I don't necessarily mind. Still, I'd like to think I'm a match for him. The yazu hasn't faded from his mouth, and I don't mind that either. I manage to unbutton his shirt before he could undo mine and I seriously doubt he minded. When we finally held each other at arm's length, we breathed in the night air laced with the ocean and fresh grass.

"Isaaru..." I whisper. Anything else I was going to say simply dies on my lips.

He doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. Isaaru slowly walks over to his bed and sits, leaving me no choice but to follow. He suddenly undoes my shirt and gasps. Judging from his eyes, he can't seem to help it. I smile. If he ever had any questions of me, they will be answered soon enough. I neither know nor care where my shirt is because he is massaging my bare shoulders. He has experience in that too? Goodness. Why couldn't he have worked for the Crimson Squad? He's truly be useful there. Mainly to me, of course. Still, he has other options. He has other choices, but there's no use arguing now because his fingers suddenly tweak my nipples.

Whoever had him previously should count their blessings tenfold while cursing the fact that they've lost him. I know I'm doing the former now and am certain that the latter is inevitable. I try not to think of this as I remove his shirt, and find him as radiant as I imagined him to be under all those robes. His hands move across my body like a masseuse, which makes me wonder if he is one. I can't ask because my own hands are busy attempting to keep up with his. Quite naturally, I fail. I don't care because I feel wonderful. Soon our mouths follow, and I love the taste of his pale skin, the feel of his lips on me, our hands making us both naked in the cool air.

We don't complain. It seems that neither one of us do that too often. Even if we did, our warm bodies so close together do a wonderful job counteracting any breeze that flows through the window. It's not long before we are under the bed sheets, but not until Isaaru is holding a small jar of oil.

"It's for any massages I give." He says.

I am not surprised. What I am, however, is someone who knows that his heart would fly away if it weren't trapped in his chest. Not so much because this is my first time; it isn't, but because it's Isaaru. What I mess up? What if he is displeased? What if I hurt him? What if? He pulls me close, consoling me with his tongue.

"I worry too much, don't I?" I ask after I am inches away from his face, drowning in his blue eyes. My hands caress his shoulders before they travel down to his chest. I love his hair as it spills across the white silk pillow.

_Hair red as snow_.

He smiles. "It's obvious." His eyes almost glow.

_Eyes wide shut as they glisten with frozen tears._

"Don't be nervous." His hands knead my back, and I find myself relaxing again. "I won't hurt you, and no, you won't make me unhappy."

Now it's my turn to claim his lips without any hesitation or "pleases". I run my fingers through his hair while my other hand travels down his body. His hearts beats quickly now; I can feel it against me as my fingertips brush around his nipples. I just love his skin, so unlike my own. I feel more privileged than I ever have in my entire life. Isaaru is an honor, his body is indeed a temple; one I am now worshiping with everything I have. His hips move against mine and we become a series of gasps and sighs. Neither of us cry out, and even our moans are suppressed within our throats. We barely make a sound, not even when the oil is massaged over his member and onto my backside.

If it's gotten windier, neither of us notice because I am too busy straddling him and he is too busy penetrating me. Even as I hold my head high, I can still see him under me. His eyes are shut, but his dark red hair is spread across the pillow. I helplessly remember how I pictured his hair in Gagazet. _Red as Snow_. I can't think of that now. These moments are near perfect and I can't let anything ruin it. His hands move down from my chest to my genitals. He knows exactly what he's doing, where to move inside me, and where to touch the right spot between my legs.

I'm not just the "Son of Heaven", or a child of the sea. I am in the light. I am in heaven. I pray that Isaaru feels the same, but I can't see him now because I am too busy feeling him all over me. Time doesn't seem to have much meaning now, and because of this, I find myself hoping that it stops entirely, so this night could last forever. Isaaru is the first to come. He knows that I have yet to do so because he continues moving within me, his hands firmly on my penis, and he does not stop until I find myself leaning back, my cries suppressed in my throat as I spill myself on Isaaru's belly.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, looking down at the little mess I made on the esteemed Summoner. He merely smiles as the wind from the open window takes it turn caressing the both of us.

"No need to be sorry." He opens his blue eyes and I can swear that I see the stars shining in them. Isaaru wipes himself off with a nearby cloth before allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder.

I see the night outside; it's as quiet as we are. All I hear, and ever want to hear, is his heart beating. The crisp, ocean laced air is shielded by the warmth of his arms around me. We say nothing. What can either of us say now? I am too busy falling asleep to think of anything, and Isaaru? He's too busy kissing the top of my head, no doubt thinking of something. I wish to find out what, but I guess I will never know.

When I open my eyes again, I see the early morning sunlight spilling past the white silk curtains as the dew scented morning air fills the room. My eyes widen when I find myself alone in the bed with nothing more than a vague feeling that Isaaru was once here. He couldn't have left me like this. No! I almost jump from the bed when I feel someone grab my shoulder. Isaaru. I sigh, helplessly smiling.

He is fully dressed in all of his robes, his hair once again tied up in a topknot. "Baralai, I must go now."

As soon as I hear that, reality sets in like a swarm of fiends. He is going to leave and he is going to die. I want to beg him to stay with me, but I know better. Isaaru will never yield, quit, or give up. His death is a certainty if operation Mi'ihen fails, and the thought kills me.

_Hair red as snow. Eyes wide shut. If Gagazat doesn't kill you, then Zanarkand surely will. _I will never have a chance. I will never see him again.

Isaaru senses my feelings because he sits beside me, cupping my chin his gloved hand. "Remember what I told you."

"I will," I manage before collapsing into his arms. I feel like falling to pieces with tears, but I don't. It won't do any good; I know it won't. He holds me at arms length, and I stare up at him to make sure that every aspect of him is etched in my mind. How we met, how we stood before the sunset, how I had him for one beautiful night, and how we will both go out separate ways fulfilling different duties. I wish I could say that my mission will succeed, but it's no use. "I will..."

All he does is smile. "Good." He looks towards the door before standing and looking back at me. "I accept my fate, take comfort in that, and please be careful. It is my duty to die, but not yours. Do you understand?"

I nod like a chastened child, but I never take my eyes off him.

"There is still some time left. Why don't you go back to sleep? You'll need your rest."

I can't believe he's asking me to go back to sleep, but I know he's right. Operation Mi'ihen and the Crimson Sqaud's own mission is today, and no one can afford to be tired. "I am honored to have been with you..." I manage before I fall silent so I don't melt into tears.

"The honor is mine. Farewell, Baralai."

"But, not good-bye." I say as I remember what Gippal would say when we would part ways.

Isaaru's face falls. "I wish semantics mattered now." He smiles once more before finally leaving me. I bury myself in the pillow where he once rested his head. When I smell the scent his hair buried in the pillowcase, I silently cry myself to sleep.

\----

It's midmorning before I see my friends. We are sitting at the same table as the day before, only fewer people are here because most of the Crimson Squad is outside practicing for the mission. I look over to the bar where Isaaru sat just yesterday, but the stool is empty. I eat some eggs with toast while we go over what we are supposed to do during Operation Mi'ihen. Nooj and Paine never once mention Isaaru; they understand everything even as I tell them nothing. Gippal wants desperately to ask "how was he?" I know because I see it in his good eye, but he seems to understand too, because he never does question me. It's not long before we leave the Inn, passing by the same place Isaaru and I once stood. I feel a pang in my chest.

Isaaru. I don't know how far ahead he is, not that it matters because we'll never catch up to him now. I will never see him again. I lag behind, barely keeping up as we enter Mushroom Rock Road. Gippal falls back with me.

"Are you okay, Baralai?" He asks without a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Um, yes." I lie through my teeth.

"It was more than a one night stand, wasn't it?" Gippal isn't accusing me. He just knows, like he always tends to.

"Yes." I can't lie, but I can't say much either.

"Everything will be okay, trust me."

I wish I had Gippal's constant optimism. Maybe he should have argued with Isaaru before the Mi'ihen sunset. "I can only hope." Indeed. I just wish it were enough. I can see the ocean beyond the jagged cliffs. The color reminds me of Isaaru's eyes.

No one says anything as we rest at a big rock, each one of us uncertain about our fate. Isaaru, however, is absolutely certain of his. I don't want to think about his future. All I want to do is remember the short time we spent together, so I close my eyes and think of him. That way, he would always be with me.

THE END


End file.
